Where it had once been lightly showering flurries, it was now pouring down sheets of snow. It had been only two days since Greg and Sara's departure, but already Catherine feared the worst. A foot of snow already covered Vegas-and with the mountains normally getting three times more precipitation, that meant that the couple had already experienced three feet of snowfall, it not more.
And if anything, this blizzard wasn't going to stop by any means. Power had been out for several hours already, with no sign of returning any time soon. Even with the emergency generator running, only the hallway lights and the necessary lab equipment were operating, leaving most of the lab shrouded in darkness.
"Do you think they're ok, Gil?" The strawberry-blonde fiddled with the somewhat heavy flashlight in her manicured hands.
He didn't answer, instead focusing his eyes towards the curtain of white outside the window.
It didn't matter though; Catherine knew him too well to believe that it didn't bother him as much as it should. He didn't want to let go of Sara, even though she had long since let go of him. Heartbreaking, it was, and there was no chance that the older man was going to talk about it.
That didn't stop her from trying to break the ice, though. "Griss?" Still no reply. Stiff silence filled the air, and the woman sighed and shifted in her chair. "I'll go check on everyone," she said quietly, getting up to leave.
Once the glass door clicked shut behind her, Grissom finally turned away from the frigid weather and looked down at the paper in his hands.
Ink snow-capped mountains were staring hauntingly back at him.
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Groaning softly, Greg yawned widely. Trying to stretch his arms, he felt a comfortable weight pin his arm down tightly. He smiled, finding that the weight was actually a body-a female one.
Still drowsy with sleep, he took his free hand and ran it absently over the silky skin that the mysterious woman's shirt exposed. A small moan escaped her lips, as she nestled in closer to the front of his body. Encouraged, Greg's fingers traveled upward, making small circles as they went.
As he moved his fingers over the person's stomach, he heard the person--moan lightly and shift a little, still asleep. Arousal rose up from its fiery depths and settled below his waist.
Pressing his lips to the smooth column of flesh, he felt the person purr in pleasure to his touches. A warning bell rang distantly in his head, but he ignored it. Without really thinking about it, he ran a warm tongue over a sensitive part of the person's neck.
In the next instant, his eyes shot open to a frightened and surprised Sara standing half-wrapped in a blanket and to cold hot chocolate dripping off his eyelashes.
Wiping the liquid off his face, Greg rubbed his ear tenderly, where the ceramic mug had miraculously whacked him soundly without shattering.
"Oh!" Regaining her composure, Sara rushed to his side. "I didn't know it was you, Greg," she apologized fervently. Grabbing the disposable ice pack lying in the first aid kit on the coffee table, she handed it to him.
He accepted it gratefully. "You throw a mean mug," he griped good-naturedly, holding it to the side of his head.
"I didn't mean to throw it at you," the brunette exclaimed as she helped him mop up the mess.
"Yes you did. You just didn't know it was me."
Sara's expression was still a mix of apprehension and ill-concealed amusement. "Still. Are you sure you're alright?"
He nodded, glancing down at her foot. "What about your ankle?" Greg asked, changing the subject.
Pulling her pajama pant legs up, she was astonished to see that the swelling had completely disappeared. "Much better. Thanks for helping me last night," Sara said gratefully.
He didn't hear a word she said, focusing on her long legs instead. Not realizing he was gaping, he stared somewhat longingly until Sara cleared her throat.
"Up here, Greg", the brunette smirked as he caught her eyes and flushed a deep red.
Covering himself up, Greg tried to look at anywhere but here eyes. His gaze settled on the fireplace, where there were two rather large stockings. On second thought, it wasn't that the stockings were large-they were stuffed.
"What's this?" He walked over and pulled a pair of leather black ice skates in his size out of one of the stockings. Reaching into the other, he held out a set for Sara in white. Attached to hers was a gold-filigreed note.
"What is more romantic than skating?" the words said in Warrick's smooth handwriting. Despite the short message, it said everything.
Rolling her eyes, Sara just took the skates with a pouting grin.
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"This is nice," Sara commented as she and Greg traveled around the frozen lake with the other couples.
Snow was still falling gently up in the mountains, but it was definitely getting colder as the time passed by.
Linked arms keeping them close together side by side, the weather didn't seem to matter at all to them. The two seemed to ignore everyone else on the ice, only noticing each other and each other only. Snuggling into Greg's side, Sara giggled girlishly as she tried her hardest to keep him balanced on the slippery surface.
"Hey," Greg laughed as she unexpectedly hit a rough patch and pitched forward. Only his strong arms around her waist prevented the young brunette from hitting the ice.
"Uh….thanks," Sara stammered, not quite sure if she should be feeling all too comfortable in his arms. Nervously, she shrugged out of his touch and settled for holding hands. Without much thought she pecked him softly on the cheek in an adoring gesture.
Greg didn't seem to mind, absorbing the feeling of her lips on his wind-burned cheeks. "No problem," he said easily as they went another lap.
After a while and getting used to the ice, Sara began to perform a couple of simple tricks. Once she got into it, it was hard for her to stop.
Crossover. Glide. Spin. Jump. Land. Twirl. People began to stop and observe as she followed a small dance routine she learned a couple of years ago from a college friend. Once she did a last breath-taking double axel jump, the audience enthusiastically clapped, much to her embarrassment.
Proudly, Greg took her hand and raised it, victory style. More loud applause followed, and she elbowed him in the ribs. "Stop it, Sanders," she muttered playfully as he forced her into a bow. "It was all just physics."
"Why? That was beautiful. You were beautiful," he prided happily, enjoying the reddening of her face. Her performance reminded her vaguely of the Disney movie "Ice Princess". An intelligent girl taking her chances in a to-die-for sport. Taking her arm again in his, Greg gave her a hug before leading her across the ice. "Where'd you learn to do that anyway?"
"My friend at Harvard was a physiology major, on top of wanting to become a professional ice skater. So, whenever I helped her study, she helped me on the ice."
"Hmm. Think she'll help me too?"
Throwing her head back, Sara laughed. "You're hopeless," she joked, shaking her head. A piece of her curly hair fell into her face, and Greg gently tucked it behind her ear. His fingers lingered at her neck. She stayed silent, looking at him with confusion in her eyes.
He gave her a sad smile, and moved his hand to her waist. Holding it there, Greg wordlessly directed her to circling the ice.
Whatever flirting they had going on had now completely frozen into tense silence. Trying to ignore it, they just followed each other and not feel a sharp blade slice their courage and hopes apart.
Going around the lake a few more times, it was sunset by the time they decided to head back to their cabin. Luckily, it wasn't all that far away to a roaring fire and a warm shower. So, after removing their skates and tying up their boots, the pair trudged through the deepening snow.
It was getting harder to see now, the darkness and the thicker snowfall blinding the trail back up. Somehow, the two made it back after much difficulty.
"Some gloomy clouds out there," exclaimed Greg once they were safe within the wooden walls of the cabin. He peered anxiously outside, noticing the darkening sky above the skyline of the trees.
As an answer Sara turned on the radio to the mountain weather station. Oddly enough, the announcer's voice came out fuzzy and scratchy. Neither could understand a word that was coming out, until it finally faded away into white noise.
Sara and Greg exchanged troubled glances as the old-fashioned lamps began to flicker a bit.
"Guess I'll go get the candles."